


Foundations

by MashUpGames



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Light Angst, Romance, being revised
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 22:35:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20881784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MashUpGames/pseuds/MashUpGames
Summary: Almost- Enchanter Trevelyans' decisions had a firm foundation in Andrastinanism, as well as a belief in the neccesity of the Circle of Magi and the Templar Order. To have them at war with each other threatens to tear her home apart, so she goes to the Conclave to bring back peace, and is nearly blown to pieces for her efforts.Meanwhile, the ex-Templar turned Commander is still struggling to reconcile his own burdens of guilt with the demands of the new Inquisition and his budding infatuation with the lovely mage they're now calling the Herald.





	Foundations

**Author's Note:**

> I have tried to put this pairing to rest, and it continues to haunt me. Share in my nightmares, mortals.

Cullen hadn't allowed himself much room to think about the prisoner that had been apprehended. Although 'apprehended' was likely not the best word for it. The soldiers had been forced to carry her from the Temple. A mage, thin and pale faced like most, but the green glow emanating from her palm was unlike any other mage he had seen before. He saw to it that she was properly chained and guarded, then went back to the front line. He wasn't sure how to keep his own mistrust of mages separate from the amount of suspicion that was warranted, so he pushed it from his mind. He trusted Seeker Cassandra, and would defer to her judgement. 

A few days later he found himself pinned down by demons, their men outmatched and with more constantly spilling from the glowing tear in the veil. The weaving cloud of green unsettled something in his core, as if his very soul were crawling with revulsion. Whatever caused it wasn't just unnatural; it was unholy.

A terror demon had hold of his blade, wrenching it to and fro, and it took all his strength to keep his hold on the weapon. The thing had only one arm left, he couldn't afford to give it freedom. Suddenly, the ground in front of him began to glow, a shade of purple Cullen recognized to be lightening magic. The edge of it was a hairsbreadth in front of his boots, the Seekers' familiar battle cry sounded to his left. He risked a glance over, and saw her ram a shield into a demon as it reached for the prisoner. The mage had her arm stretched forward and high, palm up and eyes locked forward, attention focused on the demon as if she were holding a drawn bow. She was waiting, he realized as it shrieked, pulling again on his sword. 'Andraste guide me', he breathed, and let go. 

The thing stumbled back, the glyph moved with it seamlessly, and a moment later its screaming turned from rage to agony. It landed with a thud, the blade clattering to the ground. He grabbed the handle, spinning forward and driving forward to the next, a faint voice in the back of him mind noting that it was hot from the lightening.  
The addition of the mage and the Seeker turned the tide, but it wasn't until the tear in the veil was sealed that he felt any kind of relief. A messenger had told him that the prisoner was able to close them, and had moreover had willingly offered aid. 

"I hope they're right about you." It wasn't trust. He couldn't trust her, a mage and the only survivor from the Temple, but it was honest, and as close as he could get.

"I'll do what I can." It sounded honest, and there was no deceit in her face or posture that he could find, but he'd learned years ago that demons and traitors wore many faces.

Josephine hoped that the Trevelyans would be willing to support the Inquisition, but would not count chickens before they hatched. They were well known as a devout family, with close ties to the Chantry and the Templar Order, but a mage was often disowned by their family when they went to the Circle, especially among the nobility. House Trevelyan was one of the most important in Ostwick, with relations and connections across Thedas, the aid of House Trevelyan would be almost invaluable. Almost. 

The Herald came in just as she was debating how to go about writing a letter to appeal to them for aid. Eveleyn stopped first to speak with Mineave, and it gave her a moment to collect her herself. Josephine knew that the Herald was somewhat favored by the Circle in Ostwick, and the small, single-room cabin had been the best of accommodations available, given the circumstances. Still, "I'm sure you are used to much finer accommodations," She said by way of apology.

The Herald just smiled. "I've got somewhere to sleep and a warm fire, it's more than enough for me." 

The ambassadors' sigh of relief was audible. "I'm glad to hear that." She made a brief note on her ledger that the cabin was sufficient, and didn't see when the womans' smile turned mischievous.

"Of course, I wouldn't raise a fuss if you wanted to arrange for me an Orlesian masseuse." 

Josephine felt her heart stop for a moment, and looked up in horror. The mage was fighting back a grin, but seeing the ambassadors' face immediately apologized. "I was only joking, I promise I will never expect something so ridiculous." 

"Thank the Maker for that." she breathed, with a laugh.

"Please, for the love of Andraste tell me none of the other nobles have asked for something so stupid." The Herald begged, running a glowing hand through white pale, almost blonde locks.

"Not yet, but they likely will start soon, I'm afraid." She said wryly.

"I'm so glad my parents are practical." came the muttered reply.

Josephine saw her opening, and carefully broached the subject. "Would your family be willing to lend support to the Inquisition? Perhaps if we inform them of your status as Herald of Andraste?" 

The Heralds' face turned worried. "I'll write them myself. They'll trust a letter coming from me, and I should let them know I'm alright. More or less anyway. And I've several cousins in the Order and the Chantry that are likely to help, if they're able." 

"Thank you, that will save us a lot of time." 

"Not at all. I'm glad to be allowed to write them." 

"I see, where you..not allowed to correspond with them in the Circle?" She asked gently. The life of a mage was secluded, and often they weren't allowed much contact with the outside world. 

"I was," The Herald answered without hesitation. "But I wasn't going to make any assumptions here. I know that we're treated differently, depending on where we are." There was little doubt as to the 'we' she was referring to.

"That is true," Josephine conceded. "May I ask..how did your family handle your being a mage?" 

Evelyn thought back to the day she'd had to leave. Her parents had insisted that she could take nothing, not a doll, not a book, not even a pair of socks. The templar that had come for her had been forced to pry her from her mothers' skirts. Her father had kissed her goodbye, but stepped out of his way. She was quite sure she'd been a spectacle, a girl of nine, being carried like a sack of flour, kicking and screaming through the city and into the lighthouse outside the double walls that had always made her feel safe. Her sister had been watching from the room above the stables, with the Stable Master and his family.

"Better than I did, although I'm sure they held themselves together at least partly for my sake. They made arrangements though, and I was able to visit from time to time. After my Harrowing, of course."

The ambassador was making notes, so Evelyn assumed she was recording some annotation of their conversation.

Josephine smiled. "Wouldn't have wanted you to be come a complete stranger. I do hate to ask this, but..what happened when your Circle rebelled?" Josephine was desperately curious; there hadn't been much news from the double-walled city about their place in the mage-templar war.

"It was...quiet." Evelyn murmured. "People just started leaving. Mother Eunice declared Ostwick neutral, but....the Knight-Commander and First Enchanter couldn't technically order any of us to stay in the Circle anymore, but they did try to keep us all together, especially the newer ones. Some of us didn't have families to go back to."

"That is sadly true," the ambassador said. "I take it you stayed? If I recall correctly, the mage delegation also arrived with members of the Ostwick Chantry."

The Herald nodded, taking a seat on the rickety stool in front of the desk. "I was close to being made an Enchanter, before all this mess started, and we were able to convince the children and some of the apprentices that staying would be safer for them. It also helped that Mother Eunice and the Templars actually see us as people."

"That is goes a long way towards fostering trust...May I ask about your life before the Circle?"

"Of course, although I could swear our families have met before."

Josephine nodded, "No one could afford to miss one of Lady Trevelyans' summer balls. Although I don't recall seeing you at any of them.." she trailed off, waiting. The Herald wrinkled scrunched her delicate nose into a grimace. Other than being the ambassador for the new Inquisition, Evelyn knew only that the Montilyets had been long-time friends and business partners of the Trevelyans. She was the youngest of four, with little chance of inheriting the Bannhood, and even less patience for sitting with her tutors. 

"I was..less than sterling company, when I was younger." 

Evelyn Trevelyan had never been the 'Belle of the Ball', so to speak. That was usually her sister Gertrude, and both sisters were more than content with that. Oh, Evie liked dancing of course, as much as any young noble girl in Ostwick, and she certainly had the coordination for it. But while the youngest of the Trevelyan line was graceful of body, social graces had not come naturally to her. She and her older brother Max had been thick as thieves, terrorizing guests and servants alike. There had been one memorable birthday with earwigs hidden under every covered dish in the dining hall. It was also one of the last birthdays she would celebrate with her family, before being sent to the Circle.

"I spent most of my time learning everything I could from my eldest brother about combat and swordsmanship, in between horse-riding, dancing, needlepoint...all of the lovely things that make a noble girl suitable for market. I mean marriage." she corrected sarcastically.  


Josephine couldn't help the bark of laughter that followed.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a little dialogue heavy, but I did my best to make it readable without it sounding like a record. Let me now how it worked, and if there's any corrections I need to make. I don't have a beta reader.


End file.
